Usually for Palm Sunday, I contrast the beginning of Mass when we entered, waving palms, singing “Hosanna,” joyful in acclamation, and me wearing my very festive red cope, to the somberness that we get to by the Gospel, hearing the Passion narrative, and no longer singing “Hosanna,” but shouting, “Let him be crucified!” But this year, there’s no waving palms, no singing “Hosanna” by the parish assembled here, no red cope. #ThanksCOVID19.
But it has pushed me to focus more on our second reading, from St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians. Bishop Barron notes that scholars hypothesize that this was an adaptation of ancient hymn or prayer that St. Paul was repeating to the people of Philippi, perhaps from only a decade or so after Jesus died and rose from the dead, as this letter was written by St. Paul sometime in the 50s. And this part talks about Jesus emptying Himself, which is the crux (if you’ll pardon the pun) of this passage. The beginning (“Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.”) leads up to Jesus emptying Himself, and the next verses describe the example (the how) and the consequences (the so what?) of Jesus emptying Himself (“taking the form of a slave…becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross…God greatly exalted him…every knee should bend…and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”). We talk about this emptying in theology by using the Greek word 𝜅𝜀𝜈𝜊𝜎𝜄𝜍.
Isn’t that what we heard about in the Gospel today? Jesus emptied Himself through His Passion and Death on the Cross. In modern phrases, we might say, Jesus “gave His all” or “gave 100%.” But this was precisely a part of who Jesus is. As the second Divine Person of the Blessed Trinity, Jesus, from all eternity, poured Himself out to God the Father, who, likewise, from all eternity, poured Himself out to God the Son, in a bond of love so strong that it eternally breathed forth the Holy Spirit. And it’s who Jesus still is today; His emptying didn’t stop at the cross. Jesus continues, for all eternity, to pour Himself out to the Father in that communion of love that I just mentioned.
We joke about people hoarding toilet paper, or panic buying in general, but hasn’t COVID-19 demonstrated the radical opposite focus of our lives? Hasn’t it revealed a deep darkness in our world? We, as members of the mystical Body of Christ, are not made for selfishness, for taking as much as we can, but for emptying ourselves for the other, for selflessness. And yet, the selfishness of many parts of our culture are on display now more than ever. When times get tough, the tough tend to only think of themselves. It’s one thing to prepare in case a family is stuck at home for weeks on end. It’s altogether different when those same supplies will be available week after week at the grocery store, to which we all can have access.
We are made for giving, even to the end. And yet how many times are we afraid of giving ourselves? Like any other virtue, selflessness has two extremes: too little, and too much. We do have to take care of ourselves. But more often than not, we’re not selfless enough, because we’re afraid that if we give ourselves away, we will lose something. Maybe that goes for our marriage or family life. Maybe that goes for work. Maybe that goes for our relationship with Jesus. We are afraid that if we give Jesus everything, then He might take something away that we like. If we empty ourselves for Him, will He really empty Himself for us?
Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI spoke about this to the youth in particular, but it applies to us all. He said:
Are we not perhaps all afraid in some way? If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, are we not afraid that He might take something away from us? Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom? . . . No! If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great. No! Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation. And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of long personal experience of life, I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return.
During this Holy Week, following the example of Jesus, who emptied Himself for our salvation, who gave all of who He was, not only to God the Father, but “for us men and for our salvation” (as we say in the Nicene Creed), let’s also empty ourselves for God and for our fellow human beings. What’s the result for us? The same as it is for Jesus: when we empty ourselves, God greatly exalts us in Christ, and makes us sharers in the glory that is to come. While we usually have on our lips “Hosanna” today, may this year’s struggles remind us today, this week, and every day, to also have another word in our minds and hearts, and on our lips: kenosis; emptying.
